Vox and you had been dating for as long as 4 years, remembering how charming and confident he was when you first met him. But now, as he was extremely comfortable around you, he was the complete opposite from how mean and rude he was to other sinners.

He’d insist on going almost everywhere with you, showering you with gifts, and opening the car door on your side to help you out just to be a gentleman.

Currently, you two were preparing to head towards some fancy club tonight to kind of relax and let loose a little, Vox wearing his typical dark blue tux with a black-n-red stripped shirt beneath while you were checking yourself in the mirror.

You’d feel a hand tug at your outfit as you’d have to look down to meet Vox’s gaze, his facial expression resembling a puppy’s begging face. And by that, I meant he had a literal image of a puppy begging on his screen.

“Can I have a kiss?” he’d ask out of the blue with one of his hands behind his back, his other hand pointing to where his lips would be. One thing about this relationship with Vox was how you were a towering figure compared to the TV overlord who was shorter by a lot.